The In-Between
by Zesty Bod
Summary: The missing bedroom scene between Iris and Barry from 2x13. One-Shot.


**My first foray into The Flash. 2x13 messed me up.**

Within minutes of arriving on Earth-2, Barry knew that liked it. He liked the way the place managed to look both futuristic and like a blast from the 1940s, all at the same time. He liked the strange hue of the sky that made everything appear like he was looking at it from a specialized camera. He definitely liked all the new technology.

There were a lot of things to like about Earth-2, and the phone call with his mom was certainly one of them. For some reason, he hadn't contemplated the possibility that his doppleganger's parents would be alive and he could talk to them. Hearing his mother's voice on the phone, talking so casually and happily about going to Atlantis and asking him for grandkids, brought such joy to his heart that he couldn't help the tears that flowed from their conversation. Yes, talking to his mother was amazing. But even that wasn't the highlight of this visit.

The highlight was most definitely Iris.

Good Lord, was it Iris.

When he first saw her at CCPD, decked out in her detective's outfit and with her hair pulled back in some intricate ponytail, he almost wanted to tease her. But she seemed like the no-nonsense type and he decided to bite his tongue when she asked to speak to him in private. He had no idea that she was going to toss him against the wall and kiss the life out of him. It had taken everything in him to move away from her and she still managed to plant a few more on him. His head was spinning when she told him that they were married and he could hardly keep his eyes off of her as she sashayed down the hallway.

His restraint got another good workout once they got home and Iris unbuttoned her shirt and revealed the sexiest bra he'd ever seen. It took a tremendous amount of courage and fortitude to turn away from her, only to be confronted with pictures of their wedding. The whole thing was surreal. Being married to Iris, and apparently, being so blissfully happy. It was everything he had dreamt about.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Iris asked sweetly as she appeared from upstairs.

Barry looked at her and he could practically feel the drool pool in his mouth. She looked like a vision in her white silk nightie, which was somehow even more titillating than seeing her in a bra. Her concerned expression finally registered in his brain and he realized he was still crying from the conversation with his mom. He quickly wiped his face and tried to act normal.

"Uh nothing. It was…um, just good to talk to my mom."

Iris gave him a look, but then smiled and said, "we should get ready, yeah?"

"Yeah."

She held out her hand and he took it, vowing to get himself together before Iris realized that he wasn't her husband but his identical form from another Earth. She interlaced their fingers as they walked up the stairs of the house that was so much like the one he knew, yet completely different. There were no pictures hanging on the wall of Barry and Iris as kids, then teenagers, then adults. But there pictures of them throughout their relationship: mostly of the two of them, some of them with his parents, but none of them with Joe. The only pictures of Joe were with Iris. Strange.

Iris led them to the master bedroom, which Barry was used to seeing as Joe's. In the place of Joe's nondescript and eternally unmade queen-size bed was a four-poster King that Barry couldn't help but think got a lot of action. There were a few soft pink and white accent pillows on top of the otherwise neutral comforter, and the rest of the room had that feminine but not overtly girl feel to it, too. It felt like Iris. It smelled like Iris.

"Are you sure you're okay, Bear?" Iris asked.

He snapped out of his thoughts and saw her standing in front of their walk-in closet, looking worried about him. He quickly nodded his head and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he promised. "It's just been a long day, I guess."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Her round, expressive eyes stared at him and for a second, he could have sworn that she was _his_ Iris. She was giving him her undivided attention, just like his Iris did, especially when she thought something was going on with him.

"No, that's okay. I'm just thinking about some work stuff. You know, boring, dorky, science crap."

She cracked a smile and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't think your science crap is boring. Dorky, yes. But you're such a sexy dork that I don't mind."

She winked at him and a flush went over his body. She turned back to the closet and put a hand on her hip.

"What do you think I should wear?"

"Uh, where are we going…again?"

"My dad's place."

A spark of joy ignited in Barry and a grin overtook his lips.

"We're going to see Joe?"

Iris turned to him and frowned. "Since when does seeing my dad fill you with such glee?"

"Oh, uh, I…"

He fumbled around for some explanation, but he came up empty. It never occurred to him that there would be a time or place that he wasn't happy to see Joe, and without further information, he wasn't sure what he could or should say without causing even more suspicion. While he hesitated, Iris abandoned her position at the closet and stood right in front of him. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead.

"You're not warm," she said.

"I feel fine."

"You're acting differently, Barry."

She narrowed her eyes at him and panic flooded his body. Iris was smart, and she was giving him that look that he knew meant she smelled something fishy. His super-fast brain raced to come up with something, _anything_ , to throw her off the track and he said the first thing that came to mind.

"It's kind of hard for me to concentrate with you wearing that."

He wanted to smack himself in the head for that response, but Iris only quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Oh?" she asked. She raised one knee and placed it next to him on the bed. "Well, I can fix that. Why don't I just take it off?"

She pushed Barry's chest until he fell back on the comforter, and then she brought her other knee to his other side and climbed on top of him. She straddled his waist and wiggled her hips on top of him. She slowly pulled her robe off, then her nightie, until she was dressed in only her bra and the matching lace panties. His throat dried at the exact moment that his underwear got a little snugger and he immediately closed his eyes and tried to picture anything but a scantily-clad Iris on top of him, smiling like a Cheshire cat and pressing her soft butt right where he wanted it.

"Uh, we…shouldn't we…get ready?" he managed to choke out.

"We can be a little late," she said in a teasing tone.

He felt her hands walking up his chest until they were either side of his head, and he swallowed hard. He tried to picture the unsexiest things possible: dead bodies, crime scenes, Cisco spilling Ramen noodles on his Star Wars shirt.

"Look at me," Iris commanded softly.

Barry wanted to look almost as much as he didn't want to look. He knew that he shouldn't engage her any more than he already had, but he also didn't want to blow his cover. So he decide to look. For science. And when he did, he knew the sight in front of him was one he wouldn't ever forget. Iris, not his Iris but a damn good facsimile, was leaned over his body and the tops of her soft breasts were definitely within mouth's reach.

 _Bad Barry_ , he thought.

He blinked a million times and swallowed the lump in his throat and prayed for some kind of intervention before he lost all his senses.

"Like what you see?" Iris asked, even though her grin told him that she knew damn well what the answer was.

"Y-yes," he stammered.

Her smile grew even more and she cocked her head to the side. "You know how hot it makes me when you act like a nerdy professor. Is that what you've been doing all day? Winding me up so you could make me want you?"

Barry had no idea how to respond to that question without either sounding like a prepubescent boy or growling like a hungry animal. So he nodded dumbly and she chuckled.

"You're naughty, Barry Allen." She leaned down and nuzzled his neck before placing soft, wet kisses there. "And I just may have to punish you."

The situation going on his pants got out of control as soon as those words left her mouth, and she made matters worse when she sealed her lips to his. He barely had a chance to figure out the appropriate response before her warm tongue snaked in between his lips and she feasted on him like he was dinner. He was pretty sure the muffled moans of pleasure were coming from him, not her, and it took every ounce of goodness in him to pull away and shake his head.

"We have to stop," he said hoarsely. "We'll be late for seeing your dad."

"I'll be quick," she swore before she attacked his mouth again.

Barry wanted to stop her. He really did. But he was just a man and she was the woman of his dreams. She smelled like his Iris. Same shampoo, same soap, same perfume. She felt like his Iris, although he never had the pleasure of being so up close and personal with his. And it was the fear that he would never get that opportunity that quieted the guilt he felt and allowed the other Iris, that fierce firestorm of a woman, to have her way with him. He let her plunder his mouth and nip his lips and suck his tongue. His hands fisted the comforter so hard that he thought might rip it half, just to keep from touching her. At some point, in a moment of pure lust and insanity, he even actively participated. He craned his neck up to get more of her and swirled his tongue in her mouth.

That was apparently the only invitation she needed because her hands immediately raked down his stomach and went straight for his belt. The sound of the metal pieces clanking apart was what brought Barry out of his stupor and he pulled away enough to shake his head desperately.

"Iris, please," he said.

In his head, it sounded like he was pleading with her to stop. But in reality, his needy request came out like a plea for her to continue.

"God, I love it when you beg," she growled in his ear.

She whipped the belt out of his loops and in the few seconds it took to get to his zipper, Barry knew that she had stripped him of the last of his willpower and he just couldn't fight it anymore. He couldn't fight a lifetime of desire when Iris was right there, waiting and willing to be taken, and he was just a geek who loved a woman that was way out of his league. He was going to hell, he was sure. But the trip was going to be so worth it.

Iris was just about to dip her hand into his pants when the phone on their nightstand rang. Both of them stopped, much to Barry's simultaneous delight and dismay.

"Hold that thought," Iris instructed.

She rolled off of him and Barry let his head flop back onto the comforter as he tried to get himself together. He barely listened to the conversation she was having because his brain was too foggy to comprehend words. He looked at her, though, and he noticed how she stood with authority, even in her lingerie. She wasn't his Iris, he remembered. He couldn't stop the train of thought that wondered whether his Iris would ever want him like this one did…whether she would pin him down and take control of him and make him see stars before their clothes even came off.

He hoped so.  
"Okay, looks like sexy time will have to wait," Iris said in a disappointed tone after she'd hung up the phone. She extended her hand and helped Barry stand up. "Dad won't be there all night and he wants to see me."

"Okay," Barry said, silently relieved that she wasn't going to make a horrible person out of him.

Iris looked him up and down and his body felt warm when her eyes came into contact with his crotch. He yelped and nearly jumped back when she gripped him through his pants.

"Keep this warm for me," she said. And then she winked.

He stood there, speechless, as she waltzed back to the closet and pulled out something to wear. It was then that he knew, no matter what time or universe he was in, Iris West would be the death of him.


End file.
